


Cassiopeia

by TheArtificialDane, veronicasanders



Series: Galactica [8]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtificialDane/pseuds/TheArtificialDane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronicasanders/pseuds/veronicasanders
Summary: Guess who’s back! It’s @veronicasanders and I! Cassiopeia is our Galactica sequel, which will be comprised of a bunch of overlapping stories from our favorite fashion heads. This first story takes place in februrary of 2017 14 months after Raja and Ravens wedding and 8 months after Violet left Sutan to chase her dream of working for Dior in Paris.





	1. Chapter 1

_“So… We’re breaking up?”_

_“I guess.”_

_Violet bit her lip, the pill she had just swallowed more bitter than she could have ever imaging it. She was sitting on the couch, Sutan next to her, his living room a mess from the fight they had just had, everything on the table laying in a broken pile on the floor, back sore from the brutal fucking, their bodies trying to tell each other everything they couldn’t put into words. They had both screamed and yelled, the acceptance letter Violet had received still on the table, the paper taunting her as she picked it up, quickly folding the dream of a Dior internship back into the envelope, the pages feeling so fragile in her fingers since she now knew that Sutan had no intention of following her, had no intention to see where their life could lead them if they went to Paris, and Violet wanted to cry._

_“Okay…” Violet tried to collect herself, tried to pull herself back together. She knew it would happen, she did, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel any pain. Of course Sutan had picked his family over her, of course he had, he always did, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Violet had always known, deep down inside, that she could never compare to his family, that no matter what she did, who she became, how much of herself she gave, that she’d never measure up to Raja, her boyfriends sister always holding the largest share of his heart. She had been with Sutan for 3 years, and now, it was all gone, in the blink of one evening, of a single word, their relationship ending with an ‘I guess’._

_“Well… “ Violet stood up. “I’l just-” She looked around, so thankful she hadn’t taken Frida with her when she arrived with her news. She located her bag, quickly picking it up and putting it over her shoulder. She had so many things in Sutan’s apartment, her rational mind kicking in quickly, begging her to be an adult, do to what would make sense, but there was no way she could pick them up now, no way she could stand to be around him, or she’d change her mind, and she couldn’t, she couldn’t when she had finally finally finally gotten the chance at her dream job, a chance to do what she had hoped for and worked towards ever since she had realised that she would never dance again. “Goodby-”_

_“Violet-” Sutan reached out, grabbing her arm, the man’s expression broken as he looked at her. “You don’t have to go.”_

_Violet wanted to stay, oh god how she wanted to stay, her heart breaking into a million little pieces as she watched the man she loved so very much._

_“I do. You know I do.”_

***

**8 months later**

***

The car came to a halt and Sutan looked out the window at the old building in front of them. It looked like a nice enough neighborhood, with a cafe around the corner, trees on the street, a couple with a stroller walking by.

“So this is where you live?”

“Mmh.”

Violet didn’t look at him, undoing her buckle before she stepped out, Sutan following behind her after he had paid, even though she hadn’t replied to him. He was fully dressed and in a suit, Violet in one of his sweaters and a pair of pants way too big for her, the outfit so familiar from when they had first started dating, the woman hopping over the February snow in her Louboutins.

Sutan lit a cigarette, not really knowing what else to do, the entire thing only taking seconds. He had started smoking again when Violet left him, weed sneaking into the mix more often than he was proud of, but he hadn’t been able to motivate himself enough to stop, no matter how much Raja was riding his ass about it. He inhaled, the cigarette smoke calming him down slightly, the taxi driving off and leaving both of them behind.

It was a little after 8, Sutan both missing and regretting it deeply when he had felt Violet move around in bed. Paris was waking up, fashion week kicking into gear around them, but Sutan couldn’t care less about the shows he was suppose to go to, the girls he was suppose to represent. It still didn’t feel real that Violet was there, that the sweater of his that she was wearing, covering a row of bruises, Sutan’s teeth marking her over and over again.

They had bumped into each other last night, and the earth had stopped moving. Sutan wasn’t proud of it, but he had spent all of September and October searching for Violet, doing everything he could to be places where he could happen to bump into her while he was abroad. He didn’t know much about her internship, hadn’t asked, didn’t want to know, but his feet had still carried him to every Dior party and Dior event, endless glasses of champagne going down his throat while he had waited for the moment that finally happened last night.

They had spent the night together, Sutan’s hotel room at the Ritz torn apart, Sutan not even remembering how much he tipped the driver who took them there from the party. It had been a blur, an explosion of heat and aching familiarity as he had claimed Violet, taking her over and over again, the woman letting him lead like she was back where she belonged. He knew that Violet didn’t belong to him, knew she was her own person, but it had felt so right to have her back with him, like everything was right in the world once again, and he had missed that feeling so much. That morning when Violet had told him she was leaving, he hadn’t wanted her to, and on a whim he had jumped in a taxi with her. Violet hadn’t protested, but Sutan was still unsure of where they stood.

Violet hadn’t asked him to come with her, but she hadn’t protested either, which was more than enough.

Violet was digging around in her bag, a key appearing as well as the sleeve of the evening dress she had been wearing the day before, Violet quickly stuffing it back down.

“Wait here.”

Sutan knew Violet was going to the center of Paris, to Carrousel du Louvre, so it had made sense for him to come with her, his brain fighting for the narrative that he wasn’t just following her because he was too afraid she would disappear again. “You’re not going to invite me up?”

“I..” Violet looked at the cigarette. “I-”

“Come on lovely eyes. You’re wearing my clothes.” Sutan smiled, trying his very best to be charming. He couldn’t imaging staying down here, not seeing where Violet lived now. He had so many questions, so much he had to know, so many things piled up inside after the 8 months where he hadn’t gotten as much as a text from the girl he had been dating for 2 years. “And besides, I haven’t seen Frida in months. I miss her.” Not as much as he had missed Violet of course, but it was easier to talk about the little dog. In his darkest moments after they had broken up, Sutan was at least happy Violet had taken Frida with her, the pug a reminder, a memory of who they had been together.

“I..” Violet sighed. “Okay- just okay.” Violet turned the key, letting Sutan inside.

Sutan quickly stubbed his cigarette, following behind Violet as they walked inside of the building, Violet taking the stairs two at a time up up and up until they were on the top floor, Violet putting her key in the door, the noises on the other side already telling Sutan everything he needed to know.

“Get ready.”

“I was born ready.”

Violet opened it, and Frida came rushing out, Sutan only stopping Frida from rushing out through the months of practice he had had, the little pup a sight for sore eyes, yipping excitedly. They closed the door behind them, and Sutan sat down, Frida staring up at him.

“Hi little one, hi Frida!” Sutan held out his hand, his breath caught in his throat. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Arf!” Frida jumped at him, and Sutan picked her up, the little dog wagging her tail as she tried to lick his face, Sutan laughing and holding her away from him until she calmed down, the pug snuggling into his chest. Sutan kissed her head, whispering, ”Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

The sound of music getting turned on caught his attention, the classical tones coming from what Sutan could only assume was the living room. He walked further into the apartment, and stepped into what was indeed a living room, but it was nothing like how he had imagined Violet would live. It looked like a closet had exploded. One corner was a carpet and a mirror surrounded by several rolling racks and boxes stacked on boxes. Violet was standing by the mirror, Sutan’s clothes already folded on the small couch that was the only other piece of furniture in the room, Violet bare besides a new set of underwear, a black set with little red flowers that Sutan knew he had seen before, going through the racks.

“So…” Sutan put Frida down, trying very hard not to look at Violet, the little dog running over to her basket. “Do you actually live here or did we break into Barny’s storage unit?”

“It’s not that bad.” Violet took out two dresses, holding them up so Sutan could see them. It seemed like the only thing Violet had taken with her from New York was clothes and Frida.

“Green.”

Violet nodded, putting the other one back and slipping the one Sutan had just picked over her head. Sutan felt his stomach clench. Had she even missed him? She seemed, normal. Way too normal.

“Frida has more things here than you do.” It was true. Violet didn’t even have a table, but Frida had everything she could ever need, the little dog effectively owning half of the living room.

Violet blushed, almost like she was embarrassed. “Do you want some tea?”

“No coffee?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Tea is fine then.”

Violet nodded and went into what Sutan could only assume was the kitchen. Frida ran after her, and Sutan sat down on the couch, moving a box of gloves. He could hear her feeding Frida, her voice carrying into the living room as she talked to the dog. It seemed like Violet had truly taken to the vintage stores of Paris, a small smile on his lips as he saw all the different vintage things that she had collected, the fact that she had chosen clothes over furniture so very very like her.

***

“So how did you find this place?”

Violet handed Sutan his cup of tea, taking a slow sip while she considered what to say.

“Pieter Mulier knew about it.”

“Raf Simons partner?”

“They’re business partners.” Violet looked at Sutan. “After I got hired he heard I didn’t have a place to live and then he helped me… I’m very grateful.” Grateful was an understatement. When Violet had come to Paris, she hadn’t had anything except the Dior internship and Frida, her little Frida, her little Frida that she couldn’t live without, but had made it practically impossible until Jean had stepped in after she got hired, letting her buy an apartment an old family friend had died in, no one wanting it because of that but Violet had moved in straight away. “I’m happy here.”

“I can see that.”

Violet looked Sutan. He was the same, and yet so incredibly different. The same haircut, the same salt and pepper color, his skin the same tone, but there was also a touch of stubble, a short beard she had never seen before, hadn’t noticed the night before. She wanted to study him, to get to know him again, to relearn his face, to run her fingers over the fine line around his eyes.

“It’s very college chick.”

“I’m not a college chick…”

“And yet you live like one.”

Sutan smiled, a glint in his eyes. How could he be so calm? So collected? Violet rolled her eyes, allowing herself to fall into annoyance, that emotion one she knew, one she knew how to act out around Sutan and his terrible, terrible and fully amazing humor that she had missed more than she wanted to admit. “This is the last time I’m letting you in here.”

“So you’re saying you’ve been thinking about seeing me again?” Sutan smirked

Violet didn’t know what to say, Sutan looking at her, looking at her like he expected her to be the one to make that decision.

“We’ll see.”

***

Sutan hated his phone. Absolutely hated it, but he also knew that there was a good chance he would get fired if he ignored it for another second, no matter how good he was at his job. He had been gone for the entire morning, he and Violet just sitting on her couch and talking. Violet had told him about life in Paris, Sutan telling her about all the joys of a pregnant Raven and how everyone had been, how Bianca was back to her old tricks after her and Courtney had broken up, how Fame and Patrick where nauseatingly happy and how his mom had found a boyfriend at the tennis club, both he and Raja nearly dying from shock when they had met him. He would have given everything to stay on that couch, to watch Violet do her makeup, to hear Frida putter around, but instead he was in the car, dealing with a trillion emails and texts when Violet was next to him.

“We’re here.” Violet pointed.

Sutan looked up, not even realising they had even arrived at the Carrousel du Louvre until the car had stopped, his glasses on his nose and phone in hand. The stairs of the museum was filled with people Sutan could recognise, cameras everywhere. As always with Chanel, the brand once again pulling out all stops to stay at the top of the game.

“Thank you for the ride.” Violet opened the door, about to get out, when Sutan grabbed her arm. Violet had told him she had work, that she wouldn’t actually be seeing most of the shows for fashion week, the Dior atelier calling her name.

“I-” Sutan stared at her, lost for words for the first time ever. “I-”

“I what?”

“Come with me to the Chanel show.” Sutan wanted to kick himself, but it was the only thing he could think of. “I have an extra seat. Second row?” Sutan knew he was playing dirty, knew Violet loved Chanel almost as much as she loved Dior, the first time she had met Karl Lagerfeld still fresh in his mind. There was so much they still hadn’t done together, so much left to experience.

“I… I don’t think I can.”  
  
“If this is work I’m sure they can handle a day without you.” Sutan smiled, trying his very very best to be charming, to not let the panic he was feeling show. “I know you’re amazing, but this is Fashion Week, live a little dar-”

“It’s not that.”

“… No?” Sutan’s fingers was still around Violet’s arm. “Then what is it?”

“I’m not ready to see your friends.”

Sutan felt taken aback, his hand letting go of Violet without even thinking. At first, “My friends? Do you mean-”  
  
“Yes. I can’t, I’m not sure I can see them right now.”  
  
Did she mean after last night? Was she ashamed of him? Was that even a possibility? “Violet, come on, they love you.”  
  
Violet smiled. “That’s up for debate.” She leaned in, gently kissing him, before opening her car door and slipping out. “See you later.”

“I-” Violet left Sutan behind, the man staring at the closed car door, a single thought going through his head. “I don’t have your number!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Stand still please.” Violet spoke through the needles in her mouth, taking a step back to look at the clothes she was doing the final fittings of to Aja Rivera, Dior picking the Instagram influencer as one of the woman they offered to dress. Somehow, Violet had become responsible for the majority of the celebrities and influencers who came through their showroom. She wanted to believe it was because of her level of craft and the fact that she was one of the only ones that didn’t speak English as a second language, but the atelier premierés and her bosses Florence and Monique dashed pretty thoroughly by informing her, “We know you can handle prima donnas with your history. Bon chance.”

The dress was almost done, a stitch here, a stitch there and it would be perfect.

“I’m going to touch you now.”

“Touch away, sis.”

Violet placed a hand on the woman’s hip, Aja’s cotton candy blue hair a cloud around her head matching perfectly to the creamy white of the dress. Violet knew her, or, she knew off her. Violet had seen Aja perform once when Raven had dragged her out for a ‘super fun night out’, not that Violet would have used those adjectives to describe it, but Adore has seemed so happy on stage that it had almost, almost been worth it. 

Violet started sewing, trying to keep her mind on the task in front of her and staying out of view of Aja’s team that was taking pictures and documenting her experience. But it was hard when her thoughts kept circling back to Sutan, back to the feeling of his lips, back to how she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“There.”

Violet turned Aja, letting her look in the mirror.

“Wow!” Aja twisted, looking at herself. “I look totally fuckable!”

Violet smiled, this the first time she had heard anyone describing a Dior piece as something that made them fuckable.

///

  
“And then- Sutan, are you even listening to me?”

“What?”

“You’re too old to pretend you’re not using your phone.” Fame pursed her lips, looking at her friend who was sitting with his phone, tapping his fingers on the table while he was very clearly scrolling, his glasses giving him away. Fame put her drink down. “What are you looking at?”

They were all together at the Ritz hotel bar. If you asked Fame, it was a miracle that they had even had time for the drinks. She would much prefer a proper dinner for everyone, but her poor assistant Roxy had almost not managing to find time for this simple night of staying in and sharing a table.

“Nothing.”

“Sure you are, mate.” Karl smiled, taking Sutan’s phone.

“Hey!”

“Calm down you big drama queen.” Karl put Sutan’s phone in his inner pocket.

“I’m actually using that-”

“It’s fashion week! Spend some time with your friends, Sutan.”

“I am-”

“Leave him alone, Karl.”

“Thanks Raja.”

“If my brother wants to sulk, let him sulk.” Raja smiled lazily, sitting up from where she had been making out with Raven, her hand still in her wife’s hair. Raven was heavily pregnant, her big belly almost bumping into the table.

Bianca had snarkily asked if it was wise to fly with a whale on board the jet, but Raja had simply flipped her off and said that it would be exotic if their kids was born in Europe. Raja gave Raven one last kiss, before she finally turned her attention away fully, the two of them completely lost in each other. They’d been insufferable since Raven’s pregnancy had taken, Raja barely letting Raven out of her sight. Somehow, their utter bliss was incredibly irritating to Bianca, but she was doing her best to hide that.

“I’m sure he has a good reason,” Raja added

Fame rolled her eyes. “This is our one night all together, please pay attention.”

“Yes Blondie, because everything you say is so interesting.”

“B!”

“I only speak the truth.” Bianca took a sip of her drink, smirking slightly when Fame huffed and pretended to be offended.

“You’ve been such a beast ever since that last press release about Courtney. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“I have moved on! More than our resident sad boy. At least I’ve been pulling some tail.”

“Yes Bianca, we all remember London.” Fame rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I wanted to do something nice for everyone.”

“Some of us appreciate your beautiful heart, darling!” Raven piped up.

“Yeah, and some of us think the nicest thing you could do for the group would be to smother Raven with a pillow.” Bianca emptied her drink.

“That’s nice, B. Therapy is really working for you,” said Raja.

“I didn’t say me!” Bianca cackled.

“So…” Sutan looked at Karl. “Can I have my phone back?”

“No.”

“Karl, I’m serious.”

“Be in the moment, Sutan.” Karl smiled. “It’s not like anything more important is going to happen tonight.”

“No… Of course not…”

“Garçon! Around round for me and my dumbass friend!”

///

“Did you get the earrings?!”

“Yes, I got the earrings.” Violet rolled her eyes, as she held out her phone, a small smile playing on her lips. She was on the metro, talking to Betty on Facetime. Violet hadn’t really enjoyed it at first, talking on her phone like this, but Betty had been enough of a force of nature that Violet hadn’t really had a choice.

“You’re a lifesaver Shitshcki.”

“I can’t believe you’re already this obsessed.. They were on the runway yesterday.” Violet shook her head slightly, still not believing that Betty had fallen so completely in love with something from the Balenciaga that she had called her and begged her to do everything she could to get her hands on the earrings.

“And it was love at first sight.” Betty smiled.

“Of course.” Violet had gone to their showroom, lucky enough to get in since one of the assistants there recognised her from the time she had been Fame’s assistant and shadow for two years.

“You can give them to Trixie.”

“Is he in Paris?” Violet looked at Betty, the other woman on her couch in the cozy Brooklyn apartment she still shared with Shane and now also a parrot, the animal the closest thing either of them ever wanted to a child.

“Yes.”

“Oh..” Violet hadn’t expected that at all. If she was being honest she hadn’t even thought to look for her old roommate, fully believing he would be at home since Katya had given birth to a tiny baby girl just the month before, little Svetlana Zamoldchikova, Lana for short, joining her big brother Ivan and her new family out in the world. Pearl had sent her photos of the entire thing, though thankfully not of Katya’s actual body during the birth though she wouldn’t put it past the blonde to attempt it if she ever got the chance.

“You look good.”

Violet smirked, surprised at Betty’s honest tone. “Are you sick?”

“Urgh. Just shut up and accept the compliment.” Betty rolled her eyes. “Are you going somewhere special? Fuck I wish I was there.”

“No.” Violet bit her lip, hoping her cheeks didn’t betray the embarrassment she felt as she knew exactly where she was going.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar Violet.”

“I’m not-”

“Just don’t do something I wouldn’t do, and don’t forget my earrings.” Betty hung up, and Violet shook her head fondly, the list of things Betty wouldn’t do very very short, though Violet was more than sure that she would not approve in any way of what she was about to do.

///

Sutan sighed as the elevator opened. He had been checking his phone all night, waiting for Violet to text him, for something, anything to happen. The night had been fine, spending time with his friends usually something that made him happy, but tonight he hadn’t been able to enjoy it at all, his thoughts all focused on Violet Violet Violet. Sutan turned the corner, ready to get into bed, when he saw someone standing by his door, the white fur coat one he recognised right away.

“Took you long enough.”

“… Violet?”

“Are you in doubt?” Violet smiled, taking a step forwards him. “As far as I remember, I’m not the twin here.” Violet gently grabbed Sutan’s tie, pulling him towards her. “You smell like beer.”

“Yes, I had a drink with everyone earlier, I- What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d see you later.” Violet looked up at him. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” Violet bit her lip, for a moment looking insecure, and Sutan put his hands on her hips, not even thinking as he kissed her deeply, their tongues dancing together.

///

“Sit down”

“Violet-”

“Sssh.” Violet pushed Sutan back, his knees hitting the edge of the bed before he sat down, his eyes following her every move. He was gorgeous, his cheeks flushed. Violet felt hot all over, her stomach like bubbling lava, ready to erupt. The night before Sutan had been in control, pulling her around, Violet happily following, but that morning something had shifted when Violet had left the car. This was her choice as much as his. She had had other lovers while in Paris, Nate and Louis, Juliette, Franka and Benjamin, but none of them had ever felt like Sutan, had ever gotten anywhere near what they had together, and Violet had missed his touch, missed his cock, his mouth, missed /him/.

Violet took her fur off, throwing it at the chair in the corner, a gasp coming from Sutan. Violet reached under her skirt, knowing she had his full attention as she pulled her panties down, her heels still on, the green dress Sutan had picked earlier that day still on her body.

“Please-”

“Lay back.”

“What?”

Violet walked forward, sitting down in Sutan’s lap. “Lay back.” She smiled, giving him another push, Sutan following her lead and Violet crawled over his chest, Sutan groaning deeply when he realised what she was doing, his hands grabbing her thighs and pulling her down, his tongue finding her cunt and Violet grabbed the headboard.

Sutan dove right in, his teeth nipping at her and it felt divine. No one had been allowed between her legs, not like this, Nate trying a few times but Violet had pushed him away again and again. It was so intimate, too intimate to do with just anyone-

“Fuck!” Violet shook, her breath catching in her chest. Sutan was eating her like a peach, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, her hips thrusting down. She grabbed Sutan’s hair, pushing the man closer, Sutan moaning and she knew he had to be hard. He loved eating her cunt, had always loved it, would spend hours there if she allowed him, and tonight she was selfish.

She had followed his Instagram. Violet wasn’t proud of it, but it was hard not to keep an eye on Sutan now that she knew he was here, impossible not to look at what Fame put up, Karl catching him in the background several times, Raja posing with her brother in the hotel bar.

Violet felt Sutan’s hand on her hip, grabbing her, touching her, feeling her, his chest moving as his hips couldn’t keep still, Sutan thrusting into the air. She could feel his moans against her skin, knew she was soaking him, a deep groan leaving the man when she leaned back on her hands, giving him even more access to her cunt.

“Please, Sutan, please, just a little- Ah! More, please- I-”

Violet hadn’t known if she would actually come, had gone all the way home to Frida, taking the little dog on a walk as close to normalcy as she could get, but the knowledge that Sutan was there, so close, that he was maybe waiting for her to show up, waiting for her to make the next move.

“Ah!” Violet closed her eyes, cumming on Sutan’s face, her body shaking, the only thing holding her up his hands on her.

Violet knew he would leave, knew that she’d be alone again when this week was over. That nothing had truly changed. Sutan’s family was still the most important thing in his life. She knew that would never be any different, knew that she would always be his second choice, but tonight, he was hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Sutan caught the condom wrapper with his teeth, ripping it open before dumping the plastic coating on the floor.

“Lay still,” Sutan smirked. It was the middle of the night, both of them still slightly damp from the midnight shower they had taken, Sutan getting Violet off with the showerhead, her hand around his cock, the woman shaking apart in his arms. “You’re wiggling.”

“Are you having trouble?” Violet laughed, moving slightly, the bed moving with her and Sutan groaned, his arm almost buckling as he tried to concentrate.

“Hey, I’m being serious.” Sutan looked down at Violet, a smirk playing on his lips. He was balancing over her, his weight on his arm and knees, Violet fitting perfectly underneath him if she would just stay still. “This is hard work.” God she was gorgeous. Sutan fisted his cock, the condom finally sliding on, both arms free and back of the bed. Sutan leaned down, kissing Violet, their lips meeting.

Sutan felt Violet’s hands, her slim fingers running over his chest, over his arms, touching him. “Seems like someone hasn’t been to the gym.”

“I’ve been to the gym.” It was only half a lie, Sutan still meeting with his personal trainer once a week. It was the absolute bare minimum, Sutan going three times a week when he and Violet had last dated. Sutan hated working out, but he wasn’t vapid enough to believe that he could fully escape the ruthless scrutiny of the fashion world just because he was a man.

“Just like you haven’t been smoking?” Violet smiled, and Sutan bit her neck, his teeth almost breaking skin as he groaned against her.

“Shut up.”

“Or what? You’re gonna punish me?”

Sutan pulled back, his breath caught in his throat, because he could see it in Violet’s eyes, could see it in her face, in the blush in her cheek. She wanted him to punish her. Wanted him to be in control.

“What’s your word darling?”

“Couture.”

Sutan smirked. “Good girl.”

Sutan grabbed her hip, Violet gasping, his fingers digging into her skin, laying new bruises on top of the ones already there. He pulled up, Violet rolling onto her stomach, the woman having gone completely still as he sat back on his knees, his legs holding Violet’s thighs in place.

“Tell me lovely eyes. Did you miss me spanking you?” Sutan touched Violet’s ass, his hand gently running over her cheek, the smooth, slow motion of his hand so familiar, the air electric with the energy between them, Violet thrusting back against him.

“I- I.. Please-”

/Smack/ Sutan’s hand landed perfectly, Violet’s ass jiggling with the force of the hit.

“Ah!”

/Smack, smack, smack/ Three in a row, Sutan spanked Violet with precision, continuing, the girl moaning each time, Violet’s ass growing red, her pale skin blooming with color, her entire body writhing in what Sutan had tried to understand so many times, Violet telling him that the pleasure and pain got mixed together inside of her, into a whirlpool of emotions that took her down, that drowned her.

“Tell me Violet.” Sutan leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Tell me you missed this.”

Violet whined, turning her head, her eyes closed tight, her face flush, her mouth open as she panted and nodded, a small, delicate nod. Sutan smiled, pride and joy welling up in his chest as he touched his chest to her back, his cock sliding into her, his hand in her hair, kissing Violet again and again.

“I missed you too.”

///

The bright winter sun was shining through the windows and into the hotel room, the light falling on Violet’s pale skin, Sutan tracing his fingers on her, his hands dancing over all the bruises he had left behind. He knew how much Violet enjoyed them, how she used to carry them as badges of pride, how she had even asked for them sometimes, but did she like them now? Sutan felt a slight twist in his stomach, his thought stopping as Violet stirred.

“Morning gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, Violet opening her eyes and looking at him.

“Hi…” Violet closed her eyes again, leaning into his touch, Sutan’s hand running up and down her back. “What time is it?”

“A little after 8.”

“What?!” Violet sat up, Sutan pulling back in surprise as she looked at him, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you wake me?! I have to be at work by 9, I forgot to set my alarm, I’m gonna be late, I- Fuck!” Violet jumped out of bed, grabbing her heels from the floor where Sutan had thrown them last night. “God I can’t believe I’m this fucking stupid!”

Sutan sat up too, not really believing what he was hearing. “… What?”

“I’m gonna be late Sutan! Get your head out of your ass, not all of us can just waltz into work whenever we want, I- Urgh!” Violet pulled her hair into a bun. “What if I get fired? What if- All because I wanted, all because I- All because I couldn’t stay at home and not be a fucking slut who comes here only to, to have sex with you and- fuck!”

“Lovely eyes-“ Sutan rose, taking the blanket with him so he could wrap it around his body.

“Don’t say that.” Violet pulled her underwear on. “I can’t believe I was this careless.” Violet looked at him. “This was a mistake, I can’t-”

“Violet.” Sutan took a step forward. “You’re freaking out. Nothing happened, or-” Sutan smiled. “At least nothing that hasn’t happened before. Last night was great, remember?

“It’s not about that, just-” Violet hooked her bra, twisting it around. “I never should have come, this was a mistake.”

Sutan could see that Violet was starting to really, truly freak out, her hands shaking. This had happened a few times before, Violet working herself into a frenzy, stressing herself out until she couldn’t take it anymore. He knew what was happening, knew why it was happening, but dealing with it was always different every single time. “Darling. You need to relax. We can talk about this.” Sutan took another step forward. “Darling please-”

“Don’t!” Violet held up her hand, and Sutan knew she was gone, her breath catching in her throat. “I can’t, I can’t do-, I can’t, I can’t, I-” Violet grabbed her throat, her fingers scratching her skin, her breath out of control. It reminded him so much of that night on the balcony at Raja and Raven’s wedding, Violet’s voice breaking again and again as she had tried to explain to him what was going on in her head, what was happening to her when the world closed down around her.

“Breathe.” Sutan didn’t know if it was the right move, but he had to do something. He moved into her space, taking Violet’s hand and replacing it with his own, his palm easily covering her entire throat, their foreheads touching. “Breathe Violet. Just breathe. In and out. In and out. Just breathe.”

Slowly, painfully painfully slowly, Violet’s breathing returned to normal, the woman allowing Sutan to calm her down, her pulse returning to normal, her throat no longer shaking under Sutan’s hand before he gently, oh so gently released her.

“Better now?”

Violet bit her lip and nodded. Sutan ran his thumb over her cheek, gently petting her, keeping her close.

“Can you talk?”

Violet shook her head, her words escaping her. Sutan could see she was embarrassed, and he was sure he’d feel the same too if he was in Violet’s position, but somehow, even though she had nearly just fainted, he realised that he had missed even that.

“Is there anything I can do lovely eyes?”

“Croissant.”  
  
“… What?”

“I’d like a croissant please…”

Sutan laughed in surprise. “I’m sure we can figure that out.”

///

“Yes, no- don’t worry I’ll be there in a second.” Sutan took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t know. I’ll be right down, okay?”

Sutan hung up, rolling his eyes. He liked his new assistant well enough, but he was getting bored with the modeling circuit. After he had fired Raven almost a year ago, it hadn’t taken long for the rest of his original Elite 6 to find other employment, Fo and Naomi getting into TV, Celia working as a stylist while Allison had started to take photos full time, her pictures shown in fashion magazines all over the world, and even Jaslene going full trophy wife. The only one he had allowed to stick around was Tatianna, the woman so hardworking he barely had to do anything most of the time since she was something extremely rare; a model with a brain and proper intellect. Sutan still had his golden touch, an uncanny ability to pick new talent out of a lineup, but even that wasn’t as fun as it used to be. 

Violet was sitting on the couch, one of the hotel bathrobes on over her underwear. Violet picked at the croissant Sutan had ordered for her, a cup of tea next to her plate.

“So… Should we talk about what happen-”

“No.”

“It’s good to hear that nothing has changed.” Sutan smiled, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Violet had freaked out, she had a panic attack because of him, and he felt terrible because of it. “Talking was never really our strong suit, huh?”

“You mean talking isn’t my…” Violet pushed the plate aside puts her plate down, clearly done with her food. “Isn’t mine.”

“Don’t take all the blame darling. I could have pushed you, should maybe have pushed you-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?” Sutan didn’t know what he had done wrong.

“Darling, or lovely eyes or, or any of that..” Violet pulled her legs up, folding her arms around them. “It makes this feel real.”

“So me coming on your tits last night wasn’t real?”

Violet huffed. “Don’t be crass.”

“I’m just trying to understand. You don’t want to meet everyone, even though I know Raven would be beyond excited to see you, you’re acting weird, and I you won’t even allow me to comfort you.”

“Can’t you see it?”

“No. No I really can’t”

“Nothing has changed, Sutan…” Violet was tugging at the edge of the bathrobe, clearly uncomfortable.

“Nothing has changed from what?” Sutan knew he was pushing, knew he probably shouldn’t, but he needed to know what page they were on. Needed to know were they where going.

“Don’t make me say it.” Violet shot him a look of annoyance, but Sutan wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

“Nothing has changed from when you left me?”

Violet froze. “I didn’t leave you.”

“I’m pretty sure you did.” Sutan felt annoyance swell in his chest, actual genuine annoyance, the emotion so strong it surprised him. “Moving to Paris is almost the definition of leaving since I still live in the exact same apartmen-”

“I asked you if you wanted to come with me, and you said no.” Violet turned. “I didn’t leave you Sutan. You are the one who stayed behind.”

Sutan knew she was right, knew she was telling the truth. “That’s unfair.”

“Life is unfair, Sutan.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this…”

“So you’re telling me that if I asked you right now, you’d stay here? Because I’m not leaving.”

Sutan felt it like a punch to the gut, Violet’s brown eyes watching him and he felt every single moment of sorrow that had happened in the past 8 months. Every night of loneliness, everytime he had tried to drown his feelings in another girl’s body, every bottle he had emptied, every joint he had smoked, every Saturday he had stayed in, the world outside not even the slightest bit interesting when he couldn’t share it with her, couldn’t share it with his Violet. He wanted to say yes. He really did, but he couldn’t. His friends where all in New York, the ragtag group of party kids who had somehow turned into his family, his base, their company a cornerstone of who he was. New York had his mom, his mom who had never let him down, his mom who was getting older and older, who was so proud and never asked for anything unless she was forced, and then there was Raja, his Raja, his sister, his twin, his other half. They had never been without each other, never further away than a single floor, never apart from the moment they were born, not really, and nothing would be more real than leaving New York and the apartment he had lived in for the last 18 years.

“I-”

“That’s what I thought.” Violet took a sip of her tea, the silence between them so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I’m here now?” Sutan looked at Violet, his stomach twisting with how weak it was, but Violet looked at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You are.” Violet allowing Sutan to hold his hand out, pulling her onto his lap, Violet settling down against his chest, hiding her face in his neck, his hand slowly running up and down her back.

///

Violet slipped into the Dior atelier, her coworkers all chatting and working at their various desks, Frida at Violet’s feet, the little dog running straight to her basket underneath Violet’s workstation, exhausted from their walk together into the office. It was a little after 10, the morning still in her body. Violet had planned on slipping out during the night, had planned to go home but it had felt so good, had felt so right that she couldn’t help but stay. Thankfully it seemed no one noticed that she was late, the couture department almost calm compared to how everything was during their Haute Couture fashion week in June. Most of Violet’s coworkers were in their late 40s or 50s, many of them with more years of experience working for Dior than she had been alive.

Violet pulled her lab coat on and sat down at her desk, a hot delicious flash of pain rushing over her body as the sensitive skin of her ass touched her chair. Violet picked up her small metal press, quickly getting back to the slow growing mountain of hand pressed silk flowers that she was making for a custom made client dress. The client was based in Dubai, and Catherine Riviére, the Dior head of couture, had picked Violet to work on it, her experience with Chad Michaels apparently making her the obvious choice to Catherine. Custom work was so different from actual design, from making the dresses that went on the runway. Custom work was about the client, about their wishes, what they wanted, what made them look good. Violet had already been to Dubai twice, but thankfully the client was flying to Paris to try the dress on, Violet not sure exactly how she’d get the delicate flowers packed up and transported on a commercial airline.

Sutan had made her a promise, an offer. ‘I’m here now.’ And maybe he was, but was that enough?

Violet bit her lip, her hands almost working on their own as each delicate little flower came into existence, florals still her absolute favorite to work with, no matter what shape it took.

Violet heard a small ding, her phone going off in her bag.

TEXT: Can I see you tonight?

///

“So how are you feeling?”

“Like I’m about to vom.”

“Let’s focus on keeping that inside.” Sutan sat down, Abigail Cowen looking like a ghost, which was almost an accomplishment in itself. The redhead was gorgeous, her copper hair styled in soft waves, her grey eyes stunning with the coal that had been put on her lash line. She was the opening girl for Givenchy, and the newest talent at Elite, the girl given to Sutan in the spring. “Take a deep breath, okay?” They were backstage at the show, everything about to start in under an hour, Abigail sitting to the side, the entire thing more like a beehive than a workplace for humans, everyone rushing around going from here to there and back again with everything that was needed for the show to go off without a hitch.

“Mmh..”

“Did you remember to have breakfast?”

Abigail shook her head. “I was scared the dress wouldn’t fit.” Abigail sounded almost embarrassed.

“I’ll get you a banana. You have to eat, even when you’re nervous.” She was just 18, and Sutan was pretty sure that was exactly why she had been given to him, Sutan holding his hand over her for all of New York and London, Milano a week where he had booked her for very few shows on purpose.

“Okay.”

“That’s my girl.” Sutan smiled. “Now relax, I’m here for you Abbie, and I know you’ll do amazingly.” Sutan reached out, pretending to touch Abigail’s hair, the girl laughing and moving away, batting at his arm.

“Hey!”

“That’s the attitude.”

Sutan got up, ready to find some food for the girl and get a smoke, when he felt his phone vibrate in this pocket.

///

Sutan knew he should probably not have taken the number from Violet’s phone, but if she hadn’t changed her password from when they were still together, was he really to blame?

TEXT: Who’s this?

TEXT: A tall handsome stranger

TEXT: I’m afraid I don’t know any tall handsome strangers.

TEXT: Ouch.

TEXT: Kidding. I know it’s you. You could have asked for my number Sutan. I would have given it to you.

TEXT: Sutan who?

TEXT: Ha ha, very funny. I recognize the number.

TEXT: So are you?

TEXT: What?

TEXT: Free tonight.

TEXT: Depends.

TEXT: Depends on what?

TEXT: What we’re doing.

TEXT: I have an idea.

///

[Where are you?]

[I’m working.] From outside the tiny Chinese restaurant, Sutan looked at Violet giving the tiny cashier their order. His phone against his ear.

[Is that what you call fucking some bimbo?]

[I’m 43, Raja, I don’t fuck bimbos.]

[I know you asshole. You never act like this unless there’s a girl involved. Are you finally getting over Violet?] Sutan had felt unsure when he suggested the date to Violet, a night in with Chinese food and movies on his laptop, but somehow, Violet had said yes right away and Sutan’s hunch had been right. If it had been anyone else, he’d have tried to impress them, take them to a party, show them around and buy them expensive champagne, but somehow, somehow he knew that wasn’t what Violet wanted from him this time around, and he wasn’t sure if it was ever what she had wanted, or just what he had given her because he thought she expected it.

[It’s not what you think…]

[Maybe I’d know what to think if you showed up for dinner. You’re the only one missing! Raven is starving and I’m not going to risk my very pregnant wife eating me.]

[Eat you? Like that would sate her hunger.] Sutan took another drag of his cigarette, Frida sitting at his feet. He and Violet had gone for a walk in a park near Violet’s place, Frida with them, the little dog yipping at all the snow, so Violet had carried her the rest of the way. [You’re barely an appetizer my dear sister.]

[Are you going to be an idiot, or are you going to show up?] Sutan winced. He had told his assistant to cancel his plans, but of course she hadn’t known about the dinner with his sister.

[You’re the one who brought Raven, not me.]

[Like anything could keep her away from Paris when she gets to show off and make everyone forget you fucking fired her.]

Sutan sighed, pinching his nose. [Raj, please, that almost a year ago.]

[It was, and I’m still mad about it.]

[You know I had to. Bianca firing her and the boobjob was just the final nail in the coffin.] They had had this argument so many times Sutan knew it like the back of his hand. He had fired Raven right before her and Raja’s honeymoon, his sister in law simply not fitting the mold of what he needed from his models anymore, and Sutan wasn’t going to damage his brand for anyone, even Raven. He was known as someone with quality girls who were the best in the business, and Raven was not one of them anymore. She had trashed his office, Sutan fully expecting it, his most expensive things hidden away before Raven even showed up. He knew it was a shitty move, but he did what he had to do, and he knew that at the end of the day Raja knew that as well. It was why they where were they where today. A willingness to pay the price for staying on top.

[If you weren’t the father of my babies, I’d kill you.]

Sutan snorted.

[I’m not the father, and I’ll never be their father.]

Sutan smiled a little, Raja only calling the twins growing in Raven’s body his when she wanted to manipulate him. Sutan had known for years that there was a possibility that he would one day be a donor to Raja’s kid, his sister coming to him almost on the day she came out as a lesbian, telling him that she wanted to be a mom someday, asking him to donate his seed, the decision taking him less than a second to make. Raja was his other half, his sister, his soulmate, and if there was anything he could do for her or give her, he’d do it. Even if going in every five years to leave his swimmers in a plastic cup and a life in a freezer had felt a little weird.

Raven and Raja had announced the pregnancy on Instagram, Raven’s account blowing up while Raja had somehow been invited on several morning talk shows, the fact that a lesbian in her 40s was becoming a mom apparently a big deal. Detox had done what Detox did best, gleefully publishing everything he could about the pregnancy in his magazine, dressing it up as public service and keeping the rumours at bay, when in reality he was just making bank on gossip as he had always done. Detox, Juju and the kids then took a family vacation to Hawaii after Juju had yelled at him for the better part of Fame’s annual rooftop cocktail party.

[Sorry I’m not going to make it to dinner Putri.] Sutan stubbed his cigarette.  
  
[It’s fine.] Raja sighed. [I better get back to my baby before she starts crying.]

[Pregnancy sounds like a joy.]

Sutan could hear the smile in Rajas voice, his sister often pretending like this was a hardship, like she was suffering, but he knew she was the happiest she had ever been, this chance to make a family. [It’s fantastic.]

Sutan hung up, Violet walking out of the shop at the exact same time, the girl carrying two big bags of Chinese food. Sutan knew French, of course he did, he worked in fashion and even more he worked as an agent, but Violet was actually fluent while Sutan could only take about clothes, travel logistics and do very basic party banter.

“Did you get everything?”

“Mmh.” Violet smiled, opening the bag for inspection. “I even got your stupid hot and sour sauce.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s culinary perfection.”

“Of course.” Violet rolled her eyes, and Sutan laughed, holding out his arm, Violet taking it, the two of them looking for the nearest corner shop to buy a bottle of wine or two.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you want to go to the MAP party or the Le Comptoir General?”

Violet looked up at Sutan, a glass of wine in hand. She was sitting on the floor, a pillow underneath her, Frida resting her head in her lap as they were watching an old movie on Violet’s laptop. ‘Love in the Afternoon’ from 1957 was one of Violet’s favorites, Audrey Hepburn carrying an easy elegance and a style Violet only wished she could emulate. One of her coworkers had gifted her a boxset for Christmas, Violet more grateful for the gift than she had ever expected to be as she had spent the holiday all alone in her apartment in Paris, Frida her only company.

“… Are you on your phone?”

“Le Comptoir General sounds like more fun, don’t you think?” Sutan was wearing his glasses, very clearly not watching the movie, his thumb running over his phone screen. Violet felt a stab of annoyance. She had sat through hours and hours of Batman movies, even though she didn’t care for them at all, and here Sutan was, not even able to dedicate his time to one single movie of her choice while having dinner. “Do you have a ticket?”

Violet wanted to roll her eyes. Of course she didn’t have a ticket. Why would anyone invite her to one of the most exclusive nightclubs in Paris? She was just Violet, an anonymous worker at the Dior atelier.

“No.” Violet stood up, quickly gathering the leftovers from their dinner. She had told Sutan when he came over that she couldn’t go out, had texted him the very thing that morning and here he was insisting that they should like she hadn’t said a thing at all.

“Give me a second, I’ll call in a favor.” Sutan smiled. Clearly excited. “Everyone will be there. I’m sure Raven will be thrilled to see you. And my sister might even forgive me for bailing on dinner.”

Violet bit her lip, her annoyance growing. “I’m not going.”

“.. What?” Sutan looked up at her, his expression one of complete confusion. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to.” Violet took their plates, walking into the kitchen to get away from the argument she knew was about to happen, her stomach already tight, and sure enough, Sutan was right behind her. He was standing in the kitchen doorway before she had even turned the water on.

“What do you mean you don’t want to? I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon. We should be out there, having fun.”

Violet didn’t respond, instead focusing on scraping their leftovers off of the dishes and into the trash can.

“You used to love going to parties…”

She didn’t know what to say. Yes she used to love going to parties. Yes she still loved going. Dancing was and would always be one of her favorite activities, a club one of the few places she could let her body go and dance without her anxiety taking over. A gym, a studio or even her own home was too much like all the hours she spent on ballet to not feel sick immediately.

Sutan walked up to her, putting his arms around her. “I’m just trying to understand darling.”

Violet bit her lip, Sutan’s arms around her feeling nothing like a comfort. “I don’t want to.”

“… Excuse me?”

“I don’t want to go to a party with you tonight.”

“Fine, we can stay in-”

“No.” Violet moved, forcing Sutan to let go of her. “I don’t…” Violet wanted to puke, this entire conversation making her sweat, her body itching and she wished he could just understand. Why did Sutan insist on making everything so difficult? “I think you should go.”

Sutan looked at her, confusion and hurt mixed in his face, and Violet wished she could open her mouth, wished she could tell him what was going on, wished she knew how to say that she couldn’t stand a night of pretending everything was fine when she knew he’d leave in a day or two. Knew that she would be alone again. She couldn’t go. Couldn’t see his friends and answer their questions, couldn’t risk anyone taking their photo together and for some random blog online to speculate about them.

“If you don’t want me here, maybe I should.”

///

“Vivi! I’m over here!”

Pearl waved, her blonde hair bouncing around her head, the former model looking as gorgeous as ever in a tight sheer top and jeans that looked painted on, her flat stomach on full display, a drink in hand.

“Hi girl!” Pearl smiled brightly, pulling Violet in for a hug that smelled of perfume and expensive powder, Pearl’s giant phone in hand, her skin shining with sweat from dancing. Violet hadn’t wanted to go out, but this was the only chance she had to give someone the earrings she had gotten for Betty, Trixie catching an early flight home.

“Here.” Violet gave Pearl the small gift box, the Balenciaga logo clear as day on it.

“For me?”

“Ha ha.” Violet felt like shit, the fact that she had even managed to touch up her makeup and get out the door after the argument with Sutan something she considered a herculean effort, even though she was unsure if it was even an argument. She had been curled up on the couch, Frida besides her when Pearl had texted. “Thank you for taking them.”

“Anything for you, sweet pea.” Pearl took the earrings, putting them in the black fanny pack around her hips. “Do you like it? Katya got it for me for Christmas! After Laila left I started losing my shit even more, but this is fucking genius!” Pearl shook her hips, and Violet couldn’t help but laugh. The blonde somehow always made her feel better. “I’m starting a trend.”

“It does look good.”

“I know right?” Pearl grabbed Violet’s hand. “Bartender! Two skinny bitches please.”

“Pearl I’m not sure-” Violet wanted to go home. Her clothes feeling wrong, the club all wrong, everything all wrong.

“Just one drink, gorgeous.” Pearl gave Violet a small push, making her sit down at the bar. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Just one.”

“Of course, prissy pants. Just one drink.” Pearl took her phone out, snapping a picture of them together, laughing when Violet tried to stop her from uploading it.

///

Sutan groaned softly, already miserable after less than thirty minutes in the crowded Parisian nightclub. He had left Violet’s almost two hours earlier, her easy ‘I think you should go’ with him even as he had taken a shower and changed his clothes. Le Comptoir General was crowded with people he knew, but Sutan didn’t want to talk to any of them, and least of all Bianca Del Rio, who was making her way directly towards him.

“Hey, idiot,” Bianca said, air kissing him before she slid in next to him at the bar.

“Hey,”

“So…who died? Because you look like a depressed truck driver. Where did you even get that shirt?”

“B,” Sutan sighed. “Please don’t start with me tonight. I’m not in the mood for your…you.”

“Ooh, she’s sassy,” Bianca laughed.

Sutan looked around the club for something to distract her. “I think that chick over there is checking you out.”

“Of course she is, I’m amazing.”

Sutan smiled, Bianca’s never ending confidence in easy hookups always entertaining. “And? Go talk to her. I think I saw her walk Moschino, but if you’re lucky, she’s legal.”

“Later. First, I want to hang out with my favorite asshole.” Bianca slung an arm around his waist.

“Lucky me.” Sutan gestered to the bartender, another round of beer showing up.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“She’s still there.” Sutan gestured, the red haired girl watching them, his phone traveling to his hand like magic, but there was not a single text from Violet. Sutan quickly clicked on Instagram, updating the platform but there was nothing interesting there.

“Sooo… what’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

“Well first of all, you’ve been sulking in this corner since you got here, you’re checking your phone constantly, ignoring all the hot talent walking around…and you’re being a real dickhead.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“You’re antagonizing me!”

“Wow. Way to blame the victim, Sutan. #metoo and everything.”

“Please don’t make me feel more like shit than I already do.”

Bianca looked at him, realizing the extent of his current moroseness, and softened.

“Seriously. Are you okay?”

“Maybe.”

Bianca touched Sutan’s arm briefly, nodding her head in the direction of the patio, and Sutan stood up too, both of them walking into the freezing February night together. Sutan lit a cigarette, offering Bianca one but she just laughed, pulling her wrap closer around her, glass still in hand.

“So. Spill it.”

Sutan took a long drag of his cigarette before replying, “I’ve been seeing Violet.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“And I take it…things aren’t all…uh…sunshine and lollipops?” Bianca asked, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Not exactly. I just…wish it was easier.”

“Yeah. I get it.” Bianca nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of her wine.

“I know you do.”

“Seems like I owe Karl 50 bucks.” Bianca smiled. “He swore he had seen Violet earlier this week, but I didn’t believe him, not after your sorry ass spent all of the fall looking for her.”

“It’s been… It’s been nice.” Sutan couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He had been a fool, spending all of Paris last September looking for Violet, going to every single party he could on the off chance that she would be somewhere, anywhere, that they would have a chance to talk. He had gotten his wish this time, and it seemed like he had ruined it. “I think she’s still mad that I didn’t want to move here with her. And…I don’t know how to fix that. She keeps saying that, that this isn’t real.”

“Do you want to move here?” Bianca sounded a little surprised, and Sutan shook his head.

“I don’t know…but I know that I love her. I don’t want to lose her again. But…you know.” Sutan groaned. “Fuck B, I’ve lived on Manhattan for 22 years, I can’t just- What about my job? What about you guys? If I moved it would change everything.”

“How does your conjoined twin feel about it?”

“She doesn’t know. She’s kind of…occupied.”

“So you haven’t told her?”

“I don’t know how to tell her,” Sutan confessed. “Raja is very… Raj, when things doesn’t go her way, and I’m pretty sure me moving to another continent when she has that whole…” Sutan took a sip of his beer. “Fucking motherhood thing going on.”

“Yeah. No one really saw that coming.” Bianca laughed. “Listen. I know you’re not asking for my advice. But…deal with the hard shit. Because there’s nothing worse than lying awake at night wishing you’d done things differently. Except…maybe seeing your ex on the cover of every magazine as the latest Disney Princess.”

“Thank god our Disney overlords finally got it together and made a gay princess, huh?” Sutan chuckled.

“Yeah, whatever. Representation blah blah blah. It still sucks seeing her literally everywhere constantly.”

“Well you’ve always been good at spotting talent, eh?” He held out his bottle and Bianca toasted him with a wry smile.

“We’ve got that in common.”

“We do.”

“So…anyway, whatever you decide. I’m here. To support your ugly face, come hell or high water.”

Sutan leaned his head against the wall.

“Thanks, B. Can you…keep this between us?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I was nice to you.”

Sutan laughed. “You’re a piece of work.” He reached into his pocket, his phone out again before he realised it. Sutan lit another cigarette while Bianca went inside, not yet ready to face the crowd of people and the fact that his boss would without a doubt be pissed at him if he didn’t network at least a little, but then, he checked Twitter, the very first thing that showed up as he refreshed the page a picture of none other than Violet and Pearl Liaison at a bar, both girls with drinks in hand.

///

“And then Max had to bike all the way downtown in ruined pants-”

“No!” Violet giggled, her cheeks hot, a bunch of empty glasses on the bar as they steadily worked their way through yet another round, catching up. “You’re kidding me?”

“Swear on my favorite Prada.”

“Give Max my regards. I can’t believe his beloved shelter cats would do that to him.”

“See. I told you you should stay out. Bartender! More drinks please!” Pearl yelled the last part. “God I love this bar.” Pearl smiled, snapping a quick picture of their drinks. “They should really pay me to be here.”

“Pearl-”

“Hey, no logic allowed here. You’re not allowed to be sad when you’re with me, peach pie.”

Violet felt taken aback, surprised at Pearls words. “I’m not sad…” Or at least she wasn’t until Pearl had stuck her thumb directly into her open wound. It had felt so good to spend time with her friend, the two of them finding each other again after Laila had left Pearl for a life in LA. Pearl had been Violet’s first real friend after she dropped out of the ballet academy, the two of them meeting by chance at a Parsons party where Pearl had been to write an article about student style. It had been love at first sight for Violet, Pearl not even knowing her name then, but thankfully they had so much more now. A friendship, which was worth everything to Violet since she had so few.

“Not anymore thanks to my genius.” Pearl smiled, the blonde clearly drunk. “Now come on. Tell Auntie Pearl what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Violet’s tongue felt thick. She knew she was lying, but she couldn’t tell Pearl what was going on in her life. Couldn’t trust the blonde with something she already knew was a mistake.

“You’re a liar, Violet Chachki.” Pearl leaned in. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to force you-” Violet didn’t catch what Pearl was doing until their lips was almost touching, the scent of vodka strong on her nose.

“Pearl!” Violet shoved her away, a hand on her face. “What are you doing?!”

“What? I’m single, you’re single and we’re both hot.”

“I’m… Pearl, I’m not. Single.” Violet wanted to get out of her seat. Pearl was hot, of course she was, but she didn’t think of the other woman like that anymore, her showers filled with thoughts of Sutan and sometimes Tatianna, the deep brown eyes still making her flush whenever she saw the model in a magazine.

“So you’re seeing someone?”

“It’s complicated.”

Pearl groaned. “Please don’t tell me it’s who I think it is.”

“Maybe.”

“Fuck!” Pearl kicked out, using Violet’s chair to push her own back. “Holy shit. I can’t believe he’s stealing me from you again.”

“Are you really going to go with that story?” Violet snorted, very very clearly remembering the shop assistant Pearl had been making out with on the dance floor at the Vogue party, though she couldn’t really feel mad about it, the chance of her ever talking to Sutan if Pearl hadn’t so thoroughly destroyed her heart nonexisting. Violet bit her lip, the thought of never meeting Sutan making her feel empty inside.

“I just want you to be happy, Vivi.” Pearl took Violet’s hand, and Violet smiled, allowing the blonde to connect their fingers.

“Thank you Pearl…”

“Violet!”

Violet looked up, her name getting yelled from across the bar.

“What…” Violet saw Sutan walk towards her. “How in the-” Pearl’s picture. Of course. Of course Sutan followed Pearl. Of course he would know she was here. This was exactly why she hated social media, hated how everyone and anyone could see everything you chose to share. “Sutan. What are you doing here?”

The man stopped by their chairs. Gone was the Sutan who had left her apartment earlier that night. This man was pissed.

“I think that’s my question!”

“Aaand that’s my cue to leave.” Pearl grabbed her drink, quickly disappearing from the bar.

///

Violet slammed the bar door behind her.

“Leave me alone!”

She had grabbed her jacket as quickly as she could. Desperate to get away, her entire body sweating at the sheer thought of getting into a fight with her…whatever Sutan was, in a bar filled with people. There was snow on the ground, her toes going cold instantly, her shoes perfect for having a drink, but terrible for walking away without enough time to call a taxi.

“Violet. We have to talk about this!”

“We don’t have to talk about anything!” Violet stopped near the street, wishing with everything in her that a cab would come, but she wasn’t that lucky.

“You tell me you don’t want to go out, I respect that and do exactly what you tell me to do and three hours later I see Pearl fucking Liaison of all people in the entire world put up a picture of you at a bar?!”

“That’s not any of your business, Sutan!” Violet knew she could explain. Knew she could tell him everything, but she couldn’t, not really, not when Sutan was this mad.

“It is my business Violet. You’re my, you’re-”

“I’m your what Sutan?” Violet turned around, anger flashing in her. “Because guess what? You said no to that. You said no when I left New York, you said no when you didn’t follow me. I’m not your anything. You don’t get to decide what I say, who I see or how I feel. I do!”

Violet saw it happen, saw Sutan deflate, his anger rushing out of him. “Violet- Please, this is all so confusing. You keep changing your mind, one second we’re fine and the next we’re fighting on the streets! I want this to work, I want /us/ to work!”

“There is no us, Sutan!” Violet felt the tears run down her cheek before she even realised she was crying. Big fat tears over everything that was between them, this mountain of emotions that they hadn’t dealt with, a grave of regret and broken hopes. “I love you, but this is never going to work-”

“You love me?”

“Of course I love you, you asshole.” Violet was sobbing now. “I love you so much it hurts, but I’m not going to quit my job, and you’re not going to leave your family. You leave tomorrow. It took /everything/ I had to do this.”

“Violet.”

“Don’t make me do this again…”

And then Violet did what she always did when something became too much. She ran.

///

Sutan hadn’t slept that night, his thoughts circling around his argument with Violet, her beautiful face broken with tears as she had yelled at him, told him to leave her alone, but she had also said something else. Three small words that somehow meant so so much. I love you.

Sutan knocked on his sister’s hotel door, opening it and walking into the room before Raja could even reply with come in. His sister was standing in front of the mirror, her long grey hair in braids around her head, dressed in a yellow jumpsuit.

[Hi..]

[There you are!] Raja said, catching his eyes in the mirror. [I can’t believe you bailed yesterday.]

It felt so right to speak Indonesian, felt right to talk to the one person who knew him better than he knew himself.

[Raj, I need to talk to you about something-]

[Are you already done packing?] Raja closed the last button. The door to the bathroom was half open, and Sutan could hear Raven in the shower.

[Not everyone travels like you.] Sutan smiled slightly. His sister and Raven had a little over 16 suitcases between them, Fame’s fear of flying and habit of chartering private jets thankfully also keeping Raja out of the claws of baggage claim.

[Don’t be like that, brother dear. I just worry about you.] Raja was collecting clothes from the back of the couch, throwing it at the open suitcase in the middle of the room, and Sutan felt bad for Ivy for a second, his sister’s assistant an angel on earth.

[That’s actually wanted I wanted to talk to you about.] Sutan remembered exactly how Raja used to worry, how she’d fight anyone who’d dare to look at them wrong, how she was known as the dragon lady, always with her fists out, always ready to defend what was hers. Sutan had always belonged to her, just as she belonged to him, but maybe it didn’t have to be like that anymore, the small ‘I love you’ still tight in his chest. [I know we’ve always been together but-]

“RAJ! I got something in my eye!”

“Shit.” Raja stood up straight, Raven’s voice calling her from the bathroom. “I’m coming baby!” Raja looked at her brother. [Can it wait?]

[I-]

Raja leaned in, kissing his forehead. [You’re the best.]

Sutan barely had time to register the scent of her perfume before she was gone, Raja already in the bathroom to take care of her new life.

///

Violet hadn’t spoken to anyone all day, her phone off and underneath her mattress. She knew it was childish, but she couldn’t even stand to look at it. She had turned it off the moment she got home yesterday, still fuming with anger. Violet had been to the gym, but not even the burning pain in her legs of running 10 miles had done anything, her brain still screaming at her, telling her again and again and again that she was wrong, that this was wrong, that everything was wrong wrong wrong. Sutan was about to board his plane, about to leave and Violet would be alone again.

“I’m so stupid Frida…” Violet sighed, the little dog in bed with her, Frida against her face. She should have hid when she had spotted Sutan at that party, should have run but she couldn’t, not with him. There was something about Sutan that always pulled her back in, but she wasn’t going to lose herself. She loved her job, and if Violet was one thing, it was someone who chased her dreams. “At least I have you.”

/Riiing/

Violet looked up, not understanding why she was hearing the doorbell. She hadn’t ordered anything, and she lived on the top floor. No one ever came up here unless they wanted something.

/Riiing./

Violet had wanted to ignore it, not wanting to talk to anyone, but then she remembered that she had promised to take a parcel for her next door neighbor Mrs. Johanson, the elderly Swedish lady one of the few in her building with whom Violet could speak English. Violet got up, quickly pulling a sweater over her head to hide the gym clothes she was still wearing.

Violet opened her door, fully expecting to see a delivery man, but instead she saw Sutan, and about four suitcases.

“.. Sutan?”

“You say this can’t work, but-”

Violet stared at him. Sutan was actually here, and not at the airport, not on the way back to New York and the life he had there.

“I want this to work Violet, I will make this work.”

“Sutan, I- I’m not going to quit my job.”

“No. But I’m going to quit mine.”

“… What?”

“Violet Chachki. I’m yours if you’ll have me, and I promise, I’ll do anything I can to make you happy. I want this to work. I want us to work, you and me, together.”

Violet knew she was staring, knew she looked like a fool, but she could barely even close her mouth. Sutan looking nervous, until he cracked a tiny little smile.

“So… Are you going to let me in? It’s going to really suck if you don’t… Because I already missed my fligh-”

Violet threw herself at him, her arms around his neck, holding him tight as she cried, not believing that he was there, that he was hers, but he was, and they would make this work.


	5. Chapter 5

“Which milk do you want?” Sutan closed the door to the supermarket fridge. “GrandLait fraise with..” Sutan turned the container, trying to make sense of it. “The blue cap, or the one with the red?” 

“I don’t drink milk.”

“Right...” It was mid March, and since Fashion Week Sutan had spent more time in Paris than he had in New York, thinking that it would be no problem to adjust to a country where he knew the language, he had realised that he had no idea how limited his French vocabulary actually was. Sutan could talk for hours about fashion, book a flight without a sweat and order at a restaurant, but navigating a grocery store? Keep a conversation going with Violet’s next door neighbor? Find the products Frida needed at the petstore? Imposiblé as they’d say in his soon to be home country. 

“Let me.” Sutan could hear the smile in Violet’s voice, his girlfriend walking over to him, their cart abandoned from where Violet was looking for her brand of oat milk. “Blue is 2%, red is whole.”

“Thanks.”

“We have to make sure you can have your coffee, right?” 

Violet turned her head up, silently asking for a kiss which Sutan had no problem giving her. Kissing Violet in public was different, the first time she silently seeked affection coming as a genuine surprise since she would rarely even hold his hand in New York unless they were somewhere private. Violet was different in Paris. In general almost everything was different in Paris.

“Do we have coffee? I think we got some the last time you were here...” Violet bit her lip, clearly thinking, and Sutan couldn’t help but smile. Violet was doing so much to make him feel welcome, doing everything she could to make sure he was happy in her home and happy in what they tried to build together.

“I think so.”

Violet nodded, putting the whole milk in the cart. “We can get an extra jar of instant, just to be sure.” 

Sutan wrinkled his nose, making Violet laugh. Instant coffee was among his least favorite. He hadn’t had it regularly since he and Raja had become wealthy enough to buy their own apartment and both of them had to switch to more socially acceptable forms of doping, so coffee it was. 

“Are you going to bringing your machine over, or should I start looking for one?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Violet took Sutan’s hand, gently intertwining their fingers. 

When Sutan had stood outside Violet’s door, promising he would make it work, promising that they were going to work, he had no idea how hard it would be. There were so many logistics involved, the easiest of it all actually being his job, though he had never expected that.    
His boss at Elite had said yes to transferring him almost immediately, not willing to risk losing him to one of their rival companies in France, French Elite opening their doors for him and ready to take him in, the legal process already started. It was close to hell to keep track of, and Sutan had no idea how his parents had actually managed to move from one continent to another when he was a child. He had a company do everything for him, and it was still absolutely terrible. 

What had been hard though, was packing up his things, selling his apartment and moving away from his friends. Raja had been furious, angry beyond belief, his sister yelling at him and throwing things, burning with a fire so bright it hurt to look at, until she was finally finally done raging. Then she had cried, tears flowing from her like a river, her reaction just as violent when it came from sorrow, Sutan holding her and letting her sob. Seeing his sister beak apart like that had broken his heart as well. Raja had cried for her brother, cried for how they were going to be apart, had cried for the fact that she was now going to be alone with her baby girls, but Sutan had kissed her hair, letting her finally finally realise that she would be alright, and that it was time for them to not say goodbye, but instead see you soon, their bond strong enough for Sutan to leave and try something new without her.

Jinkx had been the most surprising help, his ex financee and someone Sutan was sure would hate him for the rest of her life easily offering without any prompting to let her family business take on his apartment, creating a revenue stream for him for his life in Paris, a safety net for back home to make sure his mother would always have easy access to the monthly transfer they had never discussed, but that had always come a t the exact same time. 

He still needed about three or four trips back to New York, legal matters still needing tending to, and he still had to finish the tedious process of packing and wrapping everything up at work.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Sutan was pulled back to the present, Violet standing with a packet of chicken breasts in her hand, their cart besides her. 

“Again?”   
  
“I have a limited repertoire, and someone complained the day I served oatmeal.” Sutan laughed, clearly remembering the moment he realised just exactly how bad his girlfriend was at cooking, Violet knowing how to make little more than instant mashed potatoes, broccoli salad, oatmeal and if she truly feeling adventurous, whipping up a chicken pasta. 

“I’ll get better...” Violet’s voice was small, and Sutan could see that he had accidentally embarrassed her. 

“I’m sorry lovely eyes.” Sutan kissed her hair. 

They had somehow decided that they would take turns cooking, Violet really trying her best, but Sutan could see that she didn’t enjoy it, his girlfriend somehow seeing food more as fuel than even the skinniest model Sutan had ever encountered. They had never been out grocery shopping together in New York, at least as far as Sutan could remember, the first time Violet even suggested it a surprise to him. It had been years since Sutan had last done his own shopping, his housekeeper happily filling his fridge for an extra bonus in her salary. 

“How about I make us something Indonesian?”

“Like what?”

“Nasi goreng?”

“Is that the rice your mom makes?”

Sutan nodded. 

“That would be nice.” Violet took his hand. To anyone else, her words might sound dismissive, but Sutan knew exactly what they meant. 

///

“Over here!”

Sutan had just landed in JFK returned from a long weekend in Paris with Violet. It had almost turned into an artform for him, stay as long as he possibly could, work on the plane, crash when he got home with jetlag and then get as much done as he could before he returned to Paris. Sutan was only carrying a duffel bag, the entire process of getting into America thankfully over quickly.

“Raven?” Sutan knew he sounded surprised, but he hadn’t expected to see the Russian. “What are you doing here?” 

Actually, he should have expected to see the Russian. Only Raven was insane enough to willingly take the trip out to Newark with baby girls who were barely even a month old. Sutan was pretty sure it was breaking some kind of health code, or at least breaching the limits of good parenting, but his entire knowledge of parenting also came from watching Juju and Detox care for their kids, so what did he really know. 

“The girls missed you.” Raven smiled brightly as she pushed a twin stroller towards him. Sutan felt a little unsettled, the fact that Raven had actively sought him out worrying in itself, though he was happy to see her. Raven had largely forgiven him for firing her, Raja fucking most of the rage out of her on her honeymoon, the fact that the media was much more interested in that and that her online fans had forgotten that she had been laid off as she posted beautiful photos and pictures of her and Raja together soothing the wound in exactly the way he had planned it. Sutan hoped that her new role as a mother would help her move on entirely, or at least move on to become a social media influencer, brands already reaching out to her to make sure her girls were dressed in their clothes even though they didn’t do anything but sleep and eat right now.

“Did they now?” Sutan hugged Raven, the no longer model so much smaller than he remembered her since she wasn’t wearing heels. Raven was wrapped up in a large quilted jacket, without a doubt wanting to hide the last of her pregnancy weight. Sutan had sped to Long Island the moment the news had dropped that Raven had gone into labor, picking up his mom in the middle of the night to drive her back, Raja almost sobbing when she saw her mother, but thankfully the birth had gone fine, two little baby girls coming into the world at 2 a.m. on the 2nd of March.

“See for yourself.”

Sutan smiled, looking into the stroller. The twins were laying side by side, curled together on one side, seeking each other like they were still in the womb, unable to let go even in sleep. Sutan reached into the stroller, gently running a finger over the cheek of his niece’s face, her little chin adorably fat the way only baby's was. It was weird to see his own flesh and blood, his sister’s little girls out in the world. 

“So... Is Raja still mad?”

“It depends.” Raven smiled. Raja was hot and cold, his sister still shifting between furious and like nothing had happened at all depending on her mood. “I think this whole mom thing has been harder for her than she expected.”

Sutan nodded. Raja had held her girls, his normally near emotionless sister looking at her babies with so much love in her eyes that it had been physically painful to witness. Raja kissing and thanking Raven over and over again for the gift she had given her. Sutan knew from Fame that Raja had been a walking zombie at work in the following days, the blonde complaining on the phone that she had no idea how Raja had expected to be able to go right back to work after the birth of her daughters when she had taken two weeks off for her wedding.

“Have you decided on names yet?”

Raven smiled secretly, the two of them walking out of Newark together, a driver already waiting for them. “Yes, but it’s a secret.”

“Of course. Makes perfect sense.”

Sutan was so happy Raven had forgiven him, the fact that life in New York was going on without him, even if it also hurt. They all got in the car, Sutan and Raven sitting in the back, Raven’s hand in the basket with her girls, resting on their little tummies as they made their way into Manhattan. 

“Sutan...”

“Yes?” Sutan looked up from his phone, the fact that he was transfering meaning he somehow had received more emails in the last few weeks than it felt like he had in his entire career, a few all nighters in the office without a doubt in the near future.

“Why does Violet hate me?”

“... What?”

“She hasn’t responded to any of my messages, I haven’t heard from her since you guys broke up, and now that she’s talking to you again, why hasn’t she- She hasn’t even seen- I want her to meet- I just- Why?”

Sutan could see that Raven was seconds from crying, the new mom still beyond exhausted all the time even if Mani had moved in with them for a time to help with everything. “Raven.”

“Don’t pity me!” Raven angrily wiped her eyes, and Sutan knew that was really why she had come to see him, a chance to privately ask what had without a doubt been eating away at her soul. “I know I don’t make friends easily, I know I don’t, but- I really thought we were friends, and I-”

“She misses you too.”

“She does?”

Sutan nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he was telling the truth. Violet liked Raven, that much was clear to him, but he also understood that his sister in laws bright and loud personality could also be a little much for Violet sometimes. 

“She’s just...scared, of meeting all of you again. She told me, during fashion week.” Her reasoning had without a doubt been different back then, but if Sutan was honest, he couldn’t blame his girlfriend. His friends were intense, that wasn’t a secret to anyone, and the idea of just leaving them had tempted even him sometimes, but he loved them, and even if he was growing more and more excited about moving, he wasn’t happy about leaving a single one of them behind.

“So she doesn’t hate me?”

“She doesn’t.” Sutan reached into the basket too, putting his hand on top of Ravens. 

“If I throw a birthday party for the girls, do you think she’ll come?”

“... In a year?”

“Of course not silly. For their two month birthday and name reveal! It’ll be amazing.” Raven smiled brightly, the former model’s eyes shining not with tears now, but with pure excitement. “I’m already working with a party planner. We’re having a Russian and Indonesian fusion feast to celebrate the two most amazing girls in the world!”

“We won’t miss it for the world.”

///

Riiiiiing, riiiiiing, riiiiiing

Sutan rolled over, a groan leaving him. His phone was going off, the sound so so loud in his quiet bedroom. It was the middle of the night, and normally Sutan would be pissed that anyone interrupted him, but in the last month, the ringtone had become a lifeline in this new life, his girlfriend on the other side even though she was 6 hours ahead, which meant their days never lined up. 

Sutan finally found his phone, sliding without opening his eyes, the phone against his ear as he settled back down under the covers. 

“Hi lovely eyes”

“Why is there a delivery man outside my door?”

“... What?” Sutan knew he had to sound stupid, but unlike Violet, he wasn’t quick to wake up, his brain needing time to reboot. Violet often found delight in how slow he was in the morning, teasing him before she pushed a cup of coffee towards him to let him wake up.

“Why is there a delivery man outside of my door, Sutan?”

Sutan opened his eye, the clock on his bedside table telling him it was a little after 4, and therefore 10 in Paris just as he had planned. “It made it there okay?” It was Saturday, Sutan’s head still a little heavy from the party he had gone to last night with Tatianna, the model one of the only girls he was genuinely sad about leaving behind.

“Sutan I’m not joking, you have four seconds to tell me what going on or I’m going to explod-”

“It’s our new bed.” Sutan could hear on Violet’s voice that he wasn’t going to be allowed back to sleep anytime soon, the woman sometimes calling him with a quick update, a simple question he could answer or to say she loved him, which meant he could roll over and go back to sleep, but this wasn’t going to one of them. Sutan sat up, rubbing his eyes before he put on his glasses. Neither of them were great at texting, Violet hating it, so they called, even though it didn’t really work for either of them compared to being together physically. “Already paid for.” Sutan got out of bed, not turning on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“You got us a new bed?”

“You’re dating an old man.” Sutan smiled to himself, the 18 year age gap between them sometimes seeming like it didn’t exist, and other times like it was an ocean of things they had to overcome. Right now though, it was thankfully just amusing. “You may be able to sleep on a crappy mattress on the floor, but I need to sleep in an actual bed, with back support.” Sutan turned on the tap, quickly filling a glass. “Is the delivery man still outside?”

“Maybe.” Sutan could hear Violet biting her lip, an annoyed huff coming from her. “Will it fit?” 

“Measured and everything.”

“When did you even- No, no, nevermind, I-”

“.. Are you okay?” Sutan hadn’t even considered that Violet would dislike the bed, his girlfriend never expressing any opinion on furniture, both her room in Fame’s apartment and what he had seen of her home in Paris telling him she didn’t care, but his stomach still twisted, telling him he had made a mistake. “Is this okay?”

“I am, just...” Sutan could hear a deep breath. “Ask next time. Please?”

“I will.” Sutan took a drink of his water. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” Violet’s voice was warm, the woman whispering into the phone. “I can’t wait to try it with you when you return.”

“Fuck.” Sutan groaned, the sound of her in his ear making warmth run down his spine. “God, long distance is killing me.” 

Violet laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll talk to you too.” Violet hung up, Sutan standing alone in his dark kitchen, his toes slowly turning to ice, Sutan quietly cursing himself for the fact that he hadn’t taken his slippers with him. This was hard, but it was worth it. Violet was worth it, and they would be worth it when everything worked out.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

[Remember this?] Raja held up a green sweater, a smile on her lips.

[If I remember? I don’t think I could ever forget.]

Sutan laughed as he grabbed it, folding it up and putting it in a box. He and Raja were sitting on the floor in SoHo, going through his closet and trying to decide what he should bring to Paris. They had two boxes of takeout to the side, and a bottle of wine. Sutan had gotten the shirt for their first trip to Aspen, the cabin there still theirs though they hadn’t gone this year. The girls were too small and even if Raven denied it harshly, the Russian was still recovering from the birth. Sutan had started the project by himself, thinking he could finish it within a day, but he soon realised he had been very very mistaken. He had been almost grateful when some of Raja’s clothes from when they first moved into the apartment started showing up, giving him an excuse to call on his sister.

[We should have done this years ago.] Sutan picked up a leopard dress from a pile on the floor, handing it to Raja. [I still can’t believe you got away with everything from that shoot in Africa.]

[What can I say?] Raja smiled, holding the dress up. [Scamming was my biggest talent as a model, and besides, the whole thing was kind of racist. Everyone thought I was black. I should really have complained to my manager.] Sutan snorted, the fact that Raja had even been in Africa a direct result of him lying to a spokesperson from Betsey Johnson when they were shooting their spring line of 1995. Raja folded the dress. [Maybe Jinkx can squeeze her ass into it.]

[Don’t count on it.] Sutan took a drink of wine. [Betsey is just her brand though.]

[You sound like Karl.]

[If I sounded like Karl I would have called her fat.]

Raja kicked out, laughing as she had tried to hit her brother, Sutan laughing as well. Raja got up to put it away, a pile growing, the far biggest for Raven, while there were smaller ones for Juju, Violet and now also Jinkx while Raja was barely keeping anything for herself. Sutan had also made a pile for Shane, he hadn’t really thought about how he was going to get it to the man, Betty sending him so many death stares the only time they had ran into each other after Violet had broken up with him that even Bianca had noticed and asked if he needed her to ‘Step up, cause apparently you don’t have the fucking balls’.

[Do you not want to keep this?]

Sutan looked over at his sister, a leather jacket in her hands, the thing painted with gold and blue. It was an old Armani, but not one Sutan really cared for and he knew Shane would enjoy it a lot more than he would, so it had been easy for to put it away.

[It’s just a jacket.] Sutan went back to sorting, the pile of jeans pretty much idiotic. He knew he was given a lot of clothes from brands, but 44 pairs of jeans was excessive, even for him. Acid washed and holed made it into a give away pile, while he kept a few from his 20’s, just in case Violet ever had to borrow a pair from him again.

[It’s not just a jacket, you wore this in Ibiza in 2006, don’t you remember?]

[Raj, I can’t bring everything. Violet’s apartment isn’t that big.]

Raja didn’t respond, a small sound coming from her, his sister hugging the jacket to her chest as she cried.

[Putri-] Sutan got up, quickly getting to his sister and hugging her tight, Raja resting against him. The day had been so good, but Sutan hadn’t realised it was only because Raja had been able to pretend that none of it was actually happening.

[I wish you didn’t have to go..]

[Me too.] Sutan kissed his sisters cheek. [Me too.]

///

{Earth to Violet. Violet are you there?}

{Mmh?} Violet jerked out of her daydream. Hong Bo Lin looking at her, an amused smile on her co worker’s face. {I’m sorry what?}

{I asked you about your progress} Hong was Violet’s unofficial mentor, the Chinese man having been at Dior for almost 9 years. He was the one who worked the most on private clients besides Violet, though he was often also asked to take on the most difficult of the couture dresses for the runway whenever the construction had to be perfect. Violet was in awe of how he could make even the most difficult of designs come to work, his eye for tailoring and for how to fit things together for the right effect beyond words.

{Oh.} Violet glanced at the clock and blushed. She had been staring at the same piece of fabric that she was perforating for almost 10 minutes, the work something she knew how to do, but thoughts of Sutan kept popping into her head. {Yes, the dress. Umh…} Violet tried to think back on her calculations, how long she had estimated her project to last, time management a skill that was essential in the Dior atelier, all of them depended on a director who could change his mind at any minute if he didn’t like a vision. {I just need a few more days…}

{A few more days? That’s very unspecific for you.} Hong smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. Hong was in his mind 30’s, or so Violet had assumed since they had both spoken very rarely about their homelives. Why would they, when they could talk about fashion? Violet had made a friend in Hang almost instantly, clicking with him from the moment he showed her how he had made the water lily pattern of the Essence d’Herbier that had been commissioned by the National Gallery of Melbourne, his work now on full display there. Violet had read about it, her jaw nearly dropping when she met Hong for the first time, her entire body going hot with excitement, her throat closing up but for the first time none of it was uncomfortable. Violet didn’t really have idols, but she was in awe of the fact that she got to work with Hong every day. {Are you sick?}

{No… I…} Violet felt uncomfortable. She hadn’t discussed the fact that her and Sutan had gotten back together, hadn’t even told anyone in the atelier that she had even had a relationship. Of course she ate lunch with the others, but she rarely said anything. It was tradition at the atelier and with all the delicate fabrics and dresses around it was impossible to eat at your desk like she had done at Galactica, so every day at the same time they were all more or less forced to leave their desks and have lunch. Hong was her coworker and mentor, but she had also started to consider him a friend. {My, umh, my..} Violet realised she had no idea how to say boyfriend, the word one she had never used. “Boyfriend?”

“Ah, un petit copain?” Hong laughed. He spoke English too, fluently at that, but from the start he had forced Violet to speak French. Violet had known it even before she arrived, but neither Monique or Florence, the premieres of the atelier spoke english, and even though she could, the director of Haute Couture Catherine Rivière also very rarely spoke english. Hong did challenge her, but he never had any problems helping her whenever she got stuck.. {You have a boyfriend?}

Violet nodded. She had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting ready for the long weekend Sutan would spend at her apartment before she was flying to New York with him to go to the twins’ two month “birthday.” It had felt weird at first to be invited, so strange that two entirely new lives had been created while she had been away, but she was excited to meet the two little girls.

Violet had called Raven, at Sutan’s request, the man telling her how Raven had shown up at the airport, asking for her. Violet had fully expected Raven to be furious, only wanting her to call to yell at her about how Violet had abandoned her, but none of that had happened. Raven had picked up her phone, not exploding, but instead talking and talking and talking about what had happened since they had last seen each other. Violet had said sorry, the words so hard to get out, Raven going completely quiet before a small ‘I miss you’ had left her friends lips.

{He’s coming tomorrow and I’m, I’m a little nervous.}

{He must be very special to make you space out like that.}

{He is.} Violet said, her coworker leaving with a smile since he had woken her from her spell. “He really is…”

///

Sutan hated Charles de Gaulle. Unlike Fame, he had never minded flying and international flights had always been something he had enjoyed. As a child it had been like going on adventure, flying always the first step to reunite with their family in Indonesia. It had meant all the movies he could stand watching, and chocolate from his mother’s purse if they asked nicely. As an adult international flights was an opportunity to relax whenever he was flying solo or with friends, his phone often not leaving his pocket at all while the ocean went by beneath the skies, a drink in hand as he still watched as many movies as he could stomach. Now however? It was a nightmare. He had watched every single movie that was even vaguely interesting on British Airways, United and KLM, his laptop with him whenever he wasn’t on an overnight flight or a redeye, Sutan doing everything he could to clear his emails before he landed so he would have time to spend with Violet, to actually be present even if it sometimes felt like his mind was in a million places at once.

Sutan exited baggage claim, his coffee machine nestled safely inside the third suitcase he had taken with him. It was late afternoon on a Friday, which meant more foot traffic than he would have hoped for. After the whole bed incident as Violet had taken to calling it, Sutan had promised not to buy any new furniture on his own, so they were going out the next day for a new couch, Sutan too tall and uncomfortable in the one Violet had gotten from a neighbor that was moving away. Sutan was just about to take his phone and call, when he spotted a tall black haired woman.

“Sutan!”

Sutan smiled brightly, Violet rushing towards him, the woman almost running as he opened his arms, and finally finally finally closed them around her after almost two weeks apart, the girl feeling like a giant plush toy since she was dressed in fur, snow still covering the ground outside. His Violet was with him again, and all was right in the world. The fatigue, his hatred of the airport, the ache in his back from the countless hours spent in seats that often felt too small.

“I missed you.” Violet buried her face in his neck, and Sutan laughed, Violet moving even closer, her body fitting perfectly against his. Sutan knew how much Violet enjoyed the feeling of his chest when he laughed, the girl sometimes even pinching him in bed just to hear the rumble when she rested on him.

“I missed you too.”

///

Sutan yawned, quickly covering his mouth. They hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. For Violet it was no problem, the woman up and ready as always, proudly wearing the bruises on her thighs that Sutan’s hands had left behind, while Sutan was just tired.

“I can’t find any with leather.”

“Leather?” Violet wrinkled her nose, looking up from the lamp she had been checking out. “Do we really want a leather couch?”

It was Saturday, Sutan and Violet walking around the 11th district in Paris, the two of them having a late breakfast at a bakery, Sutan happily trying every single croissant they offered there. It had become a mission of his to find the best bakery in Paris, even more because Violet had already made him sign up for her gym, not that he had actually gone yet, but he wasn’t going to go to the land of pastries outside of fashion week and not indulge himself when cameras wasn’t being showed in his face constantly. 

“I like leather.”

“What do you think of this lamp?” Violet held it up, and Sutan shrugged. One of Violet’s coworkers had told her that the best place to look was Galeries Lafayette, the old department store having an entire floor dedicated to designs from all over Europe.

“It’s okay.”

Violet nodded, putting it down and clearly not believing his lamp related lie, but she wrote the designer down anyway in a little black notebook. Sutan had seen it travel back and forth from Violet’s bag all day, his girlfriend noting whenever she saw something she liked, her list already including a bookcase and a coffee table they had almost agreed on.

“What’s wrong with leather?”

“I know that’s what you have in New York but…” Violet was right about that, but she had never complained about his couch before. “Isn’t it a little… Yucky?”

Sutan snorted, a short laugh leaving him, a few other patrones at the department store looking at them. “Did you just say yucky?” Sutan had never heard Violet say that word before, something so childish on his girlfriends lips a true surprise.

“I did.” Violet put her little book back in her bag, her Hermes Kelly hanging from her wrist. “Leather isn’t, it’s not… Have you ever tried sitting on it in a skirt?”

“Can’t say I have.” Sutan smiled, this entire thing growing more and more amusing.

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“Aha?”

“It’s freezing in the winter, and your skin sticks to it during summer. It’s terrible.”

“Of course darling.”

“And, do we really want the look of a leather couch in the apartment? I mean, it’s so… So…”

“Amazing?” Sutan smiled, and Violet huffed, now catching on fully to the fact that he was teasing her.

“Bachelor pad. I was going to say bachelor pad, it’s not really… It doesn’t belong in a proper home.” 

“And what should we get instead?” Sutan was genuinely interested in Violet’s reply. He had no idea she was so invested in furniture, though he should have realised she would be passionate about fabrics.

“Velvet.”

“Velvet? Is that’s what’s in these days?”

“Velvet is soft and much more comfortable than leather.” Violet looked around, spotting a deep forest green couch. “Like this one!” Violet sat down, almost disappearing into the cushions. “Come feel how soft it is.”

Sutan smiled, walking over and touching the armrest. Violet was absolutely right, it was very soft, the color one that would fit in nicely in her, their, new living room. They had discussed it together, Sutan offering to buy his own part of the apartment, but Violet had denied him. It had stung a little at first, but in a way he could understand it. The fact that she wanted her home to be hers, and he couldn’t be surprised that Violet was prideful about money. They had agreed on an even split of expensenses, though Sutan could already see now that he would make a lot more at Elite than Violet did as a seamstress at Dior, but it had always been that way between them.

“Exactly.” Violet moved slightly as Sutan sat down next to her. “It feels like a cotton and wool blend.”

“No silk?”

“It’s furniture, Sutan.” Sutan wondered shortly what his friends would say if they knew how much of a nerd his girlfriend actually was, Violet able to tell what the velvet they were sitting on was made from just by touching it.

“It is pretty soft, and very comfortable.”

“Imaging how good this will feel when you come home from work and sit down?” Violet leaned against his side, Sutan putting his arm around her. “Or on a Sunday? After we go running”

Sutan laughed, kissing Violet’s hair as an idea struck him.

“We still have the entire box set to get through-”

“Or I could fuck you on it?” The whisper left Sutan before he could stop it, his mouth right next to Violet’s ear, her eyes going wide.

“Sutan!” Violet blushed. “Everyone here understands English.”

“But you’d like it, wouldn’t you?” Sutan took Violet’s hand in his with the arm behind her back, running it over the cushion, her fingers splayed out, Violet pressed against his side, his face pressed against her . “On your back as I eat you out? Or maybe against your cheek as I spank your gorgeous ass?”

Violet bit her lip, quickly crossing her legs at her ankles.

“Is that why you want velvet lovely eyes?”

Violet shook her head, her cheeks bright red.

“I think it is.” Sutan smiled, releasing her, a small gasp leaving Violet as Sutan stood up. He quickly checked the price tag, the couch worth a little over 3000 euros. Fame would be proud of him for finally buying what she could consider proper furniture. “I’ll go see how soon we can get it delivered.”

Sutan went to pay, and as he came back he saw Violet still sitting on the couch, not having moved an inch, her breath still shallow, her hands in her lap, waiting for him to return, and Sutan felt his chest swell with love.


End file.
